


The Bunker

by CastielsCarma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x19 divergent, Domestic Fluff, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), F/M, M/M, POV Alternating, i repeat slowly, this fic will be updated slowly, writer writes whenever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: The world doesn't need that much saving anymore but team free will still stands. What Dean can't stand though, is the quiet that he feels heavier these days. The Bunker is a vast space, yet so many rooms remain empty. And as Dean's heart is slowly filled with love, he realizes that he doesn't want the Bunker to remain empty. He has his love and his family, but there's always room for more.Thus the idea of taking on a roommate is born. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	The Bunker

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic was inspired by a prompt by bisexualdeano on Tumblr, so thank you! Also, a huge thank you to hollyblue2 for betaing the first chapter <3 You made it better.
> 
> I hope you like this first chapter. <3

It's quiet.

Dean eases into the black leather armchair that's backed up in one corner of the library. He takes a pull on his beer and puts it down on the small table next to him.

The Men of Letters folders lay scattered on the larger table to his right but Dean ignores them for now. They’d been little use on their last hunt. Dean wrinkles his nose as he remembers the foul stench and contemplates taking another shower.

Cas sits on one of the sturdy chairs near the larger table and reads. By the amused look on his face, he's not reading anything case related. He glances up and catches Dean's eyes. Dean smiles and the look Cas gives him, one full of warmth–love–if he's being real sappy, still makes his pulse go up.

Months have passed since they saved the world, _again,_ but everything is different now. Chuck is depowered, Amara is ruling Heaven. Hell, Dean chuckles at that, Rowena is ruling Hell and doing a pretty good job of it. She visits from time to time, fawns over Jack, coos whenever she settles her eyes on him, and Cas and insists that if he ever has love problems that he'll come to her. _I may be the Queen of Hell, Dean but don't you forget I was a witch too. I know my way around some spells._ She even had the audacity to wink at him. Sam had just laughed.

Sam sits at the table too, his fingers going clickety-clack on his laptop. Dean picks up his book, a biography about Al Capone, and starts reading again. He tries to ignore the sound at first but it's as if the very notion of thinking about it attunes his ears to nothing but that. Soon the letters in front of him are floating together into a jumbled mess that he can't decipher. The soft sound of Sam's writing has turned sharp and frankly annoying as hell.  
  
“I swear to Amara, if you don't stop that, I'll come over there and take that thing away from you.”

Sam looks up from his writing, his brows furrowed. “What? I'm updating our online archive about the case we just went on. I'm actually surprised that the Men of Letters had so little on file on the lamia, it's not really a rare monster.”

Dean scoffs. “I wish it was. Man, that fucking stench. If I inhale I can still smell that odor, makes me wanna gag – but your big moose fingers on that tiny laptop are still really annoying. Go somewhere else.”

Cas looks up from his book again. “You know how he is after hunts, Sam.”

“Yeah, you know how–hey, what's that supposed to mean, Cas? I'm at my _best_ after hunts. High on adrenaline, sweat coating my skin, hungry...” Dean winks at Cas “...and I know you like–”

Sam raises a hand. “Alright, alright, too much info.”

Cas smiles. “He's just describing his state after a hunt. Not everything is an innuendo, Sam.”

“Maybe not from you, Cas but coming from my brother, _everything_ is an innuendo. More than a decade's worth of pining glances turning into words no man should hear his brother say.”

“I was just saying I was hungry for a big, fat hot dog.”

Sam glares at Dean. “You didn't mean that.”

Dean laughs out loud. “Sure I did. Ask Eileen.”

Sam scoffs. “I don't understand why she keeps insisting I take everything you say at face value.”

Dean grins but doesn't say that she probably did it to tease him. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Point is, this is a damn library and I'm doing what you're supposed to do in a library. Read.”

“I'm not doing this for fun, Dean.”

Dean wiggles his eyebrows. “You sure about that, Sammy? I still remember how excited you were cataloging all those books and Men of Letters files. You're gonna sit there and tell me that wasn't... not even a tiny bit, your version of fun?”

Sam turns to Cas instead, ignoring his brother. “Has he always been like this?”

Cas looks up from his book. “Insufferable? Yes.”

Dean laughs. “I had to live through your terrible two's and three's, Sammy. You're not the one to speak about being insufferable.”

Sam glares at him. “I was just a toddler.”

Dean nods and turns a page in his book. “Still are sometimes...”

“I heard that!”

“What? I'm quiet... adhering to library rules. “

They settle into silence again. After half an hour, Dean's beer bottle is empty and he's done with another chapter.

He plays with the bottle, spinning it around as the last of his thoughts finally settle. It is quiet. He says it out loud.

“It's quiet.”

Sam makes a face again. “I swear Dean, I've been trying to type quietly. If you say another word about this, _you'll_ be the one transferring the rest of info to the archive.”

“I know about another archive online,” Cas starts, with a smile on his face.

Dean interrupts the both of them. “No, no. I mean it's quiet.”

Sam sighs. “In general? I thought that was a good thing. Sure, we still hunt but it's nowhere near the levels we used to. Are you saying you... I don't know, miss the shit Chuck put us through?”

Dean levels Sam with a stare. “I said it's quiet, not that I'm a glutton for punishment.”

Cas clears his throat. “Well, some would debate you on your last statement, Dean.”

Dean glares at Cas; this is not the right time nor place for that. The book makes a thud on the chair as Dean tosses it away.

He starts pacing back and forth, ignoring Cas' words. “No, not that kind of quiet, that's the _good_ kind of quiet. Trust me, no one is more fucking happy than me about all that Chuck bullshit finally being over.” He looks at Cas and can't help but smile.

Cas smiles back. “I think we can agree on that one, Dean.”

“Stop with the eyes, guys,” Sam complains.

“We're just looking at each other, Sammy.”

“Sometimes, that's all it takes.”

Dean shakes his head. “You and Eileen are worse. And when I tell you to knock it off, you start signing instead. Explicit stuff. I don't need that, Sam.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “For the last time, we were talking about _milkshakes._ Not mast–”

“Don't wanna hear about it!” Dean yells. When Sam stays silent, he continues. “So, I was saying it's quiet as in quiet in the _Bunker_. Sometimes it feels like I'm walking the damn halls of Khazad-Dum. So I was thinking how about we rent out a room?”

Cas nods. “That's a really great idea, Dean.”

“That's a terrible idea, Dean,” Sam says at the same time.

Dean crosses his arms, and his dimples appear. “Why? We _do_ have a shit ton of–“

Sam doesn't even wait for Dean to finish. “Hold up, Dean. Look, I'm not saying it's a bad idea to rent out a room, it's a great idea, except...“

When he doesn't continue, Dean frowns. “Spit it out, Sammy, except what?”

“Except we're hunters? That hunt monsters and creatures that would make civilians scared, if they'd even believe us in the first place. And I'm not even taking into account the people that would try to pretend to _be_ civilians so they could gather intel on the famous Winchester brothers.”

“And Castiel. He's a badass angel. So the rumor goes,” Cas adds.

“Damn straight,” Dean says, and pats Cas on the shoulder.

“Guys, can we please stay on topic about what a crazy idea this is?”

“I think it's a great idea,” a fourth voice says.

Dean turns and flashes Sam a smile before looking at Eileen. “Eileen! How's my favorite sister-in-law?”

“I'm your only one,” Eileen says.

Dean walks up to her and kisses her lightly on the cheek. “That's why you're my favorite. So you with me on this one?”  
  
Eileen nods. “I think it's a great idea. The Bunker is big and why not utilize the space for something good?”

Sam closes his laptop, giving up on finishing his work. “It's not that I'm not agreeing with you–”

“But you didn't agree with me earlier,” Dean cuts in. “And it's not like demons can waltz in. We still have all the warding and traps for demons on full go in the Bunker and they're just demons. Nothing we can't handle.”

Sam sighs but stays silent. “You know what? As long as you make sure to do the speech, I say go for it.”

“The speech?” Eileen signs.

Dean shakes his head. “It's not my first time, Sammy, of course, I'll do the speech. A modified version of it.” He turns to Eileen. “Yes, the speech. That we're hunters, that monsters exits. But... then we'd scare them off. Better not tell them about that. We want people to stay here and have fun. I say we just skip that part.”

Eileen shakes her head and sweeps her arm out. “What about this then?”

Dean follows her arm and looks at the books she points at. “What about them?”

“Books about demons and angelology. How will you explain that?”

Dean grabs his book about Al Capone. “That's just details. We can put them in the back and grab Sam's books instead and put them on display. We'll say Sam has an unhealthy obsession with serial killers. That's really not a lie.”

“I don't think that's a good way to get tenants, Dean,” Cas says as Dean exists the library.

“This will be awesome!” Dean shouts back.

* * *

“Jack, gimme those eggs.”

Jack pushes the carton over to Dean. “You're gonna use all of them?”

Dean has his wooden spatula ready. “Don't worry kiddo, there are enough eggs for you to devour.” Tossing some butter into the pan, Dean waits until he hears that tell-tale sizzle before cracking the eggs with one hand.

“So what do you think about my idea? That we rent out a room to someone?”

Jack grabs a pack of bacon. “All of it? Nevermind.”

Dean grins. “You really are my kid, Jack. ”

Jack smiles at Dean. “I was taught by the best.”

“Alright, no need to lay it on that thick, I'm just making your lunch. You can do that if you want to drive Baby or, I don't know, if you want a new sweater or more nougat.” He loves the kid, and anytime he thinks about the times he lost Jack–when he thinks about the _last_ time he lost Jack–that deep, old ache reappears. It hurts less and less but still, he has a hard time letting it go; letting things go. Even if Cas says he is getting better at it.

Cas' confession had helped. His death had not. Getting Cas back, well, that had most definitely helped.

“I do like your idea. The Bunker has a lot of rooms that are not occupied,” Jack says.

“Sure has. And it would be a nice way to bring some life into this place. They can take Cas' room. He hasn't been there in ages anyway. Whisk.” Jack hands him a whisk.

“The trick is to whisk before it sets too much and now the cream. Just a slight drizzle. We want omelets, not omeletnots. You fry the bacon. You know how I like it.”

“Sam says that too much fried–”

“Well, Sam also eats plastic cheese called halloumi. Who you gonna listen to? Me or the guy that thinks eggplant is a worthy substitute for a burger?”

“I–”

“Exactly. Ay! You need to fry the bacon soon. The toast will be done in a minute and then brunch is served. Go give them a little nudge, Jack. Don't hold back on Sammy, he's a big boy.”

As Dean plates the eggs and bacon, Sam walks in, rubbing his shoulder. “Really, Dean?”

“I don't know what you're talking about. Jack is always easy on the taps. Must be all that green juice you're consuming. Your muscles are screaming for protein.”

Sam does bitch face number thirteen, a rarity. “Stop that. You have–man I can't even say it. Your fucking carrots are in the oven.”

“They're not–“

“I swear, if you try to use the name of bacon in vain, Sammy.”

Sam takes a seat just as Eileen and Cas enter the kitchen.

“It smells amazing, Dean,” Cas says.

“Thanks. The smell of bacon, they should bottle that up and sell it. They'd make a million bucks.”

Dean smiles as Cas stops to hug him from behind. “Breakfast for lunch?”

“It's technically brunch. You have that juice you like in the fridge too.”

Cas gives him a quick kiss. “Thanks.”

The sound of the toaster goes off then. Jack grabs the bread pieces and tosses them on each plate before Dean slides scrambled eggs on there and finishes with some bacon.

“No eggs on the bread, don't want it soggy. You guys start eating. I need to take out Sam's... b-ba – I can't say it. Carrots, he's getting carrots.”

Dean looks at the carrots in the oven tray and sighs. “This is just sad.” Despite Dean's owns feelings of committing heresy against the bacon gods, he piles up all the thin carrot facon on Sam's plate. “Usually, I'd say enjoy but... here's your breakfast, Sam.”

Grabbing some cereals, milk, and yogurt, Dean places it on the metallic prep table. Finally done, he orders everyone to sit down. “Alright, dig in. Eat while it's warm.”

The conversation is easy; it moves from suggesting new movies to watch, to if they should do a hike that weekend or wash Baby instead.

“She needs to be taken care of,” Dean says. “Either you want me on that hike, or not.“

Jack's mouth curls up in an amused smile. He takes another spoonful of Cocoa puffs and milk before dinging his spoon into the side of the bowl.

The talk dies down.

“Something on your mind, Jack?” Sam wonders.

“I was just thinking since we can't agree on what to do over the weekend, we should do a family vote. Like Dean taught me.”

Dean shovels another fork of scrambled eggs into his mouth and washes it down with juice. He regrets telling Jack about the damn family vote. More often than not he finds himself being in the minority-even that time when he gave himself two votes–which is totally unreasonable; not the two votes, he did come up with the idea, but the fact that he still lost. His suggestions are fair. And logical! What kind of person would agree to watch one and a half movies of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and do the rest the next day? Heathens, all of them.

Dean clears his throat. “All I'm saying is all that grime and dust will kill Baby's paint and since she's basically family, Baby should get a vote too. And I know Baby best.“

Sam has a smug look on his face. “All in favor of the hike this weekend, raise a hand.”

Jack raises his hand.

That Sam raises his hand is no surprise, he thrives on the green stuff. Green juice, green food, green so-called wheatgrass. He's practically a moose.

Eileen raises her hand too, the reason being obviously clear; it's a show of solidarity to Sam.

It's when Dean looks to his right and sees Cas raising his hand that he feels the sharp sting of betrayal. “Et tu, Cas? Man, really? You're raising your hand too?”

Cas shrugs. “I do find being in nature peaceful.”

Dean crosses his arms. “There's nothing peaceful about listening to Sam sounding like a damn chainsaw.”

“I think you're outnumbered, Dean.” Sam takes his glass and clinks it with Eileen.

“Alright, alright, it's not like I don't like hikes.”

Eileen takes a sip of her juice and turns to Dean. “Loser carries the tents too.”

“Hey, what? No, no, no, no. That's not part of any deal or anything.” Sam and Jack just smile and continue munching on their toast, totally ignoring Dean's objections. “Eileen, come on.”

“That's in the rules,” Eileen says and stabs a piece of bacon.

“Rules?” Dean sputters. “Cas, back me up here.”

Cas pats Dean's shoulder and squeezes it lightly. Dean already knows he's screwed by the look Cas gives him. “You know I've always admired your strength, Dean. Those tents won't be a problem.”

Dean points at Cas with the knife. “Fuck you.” He does a circular motion to the rest of them. “Fuck all of you.”

They have the audacity to laugh in his face.

* * *

Dean adjusts the straps on his backpack and groans. “I know there's something called lightweight tents. We're only gone for the night, not trekking to the damn Barad-dûr.”

Cas turns to Dean. “I can take the backpack.”

Dean shakes his head and steps over a giant log that stretches across the path in front of him. “Nah, I'm sure Merry and Pippin over there will find the spot soon.” He points at Jack and Sam who have their noses in a map. He had suggested that they use the GPS on their phone, only for Sam to give him bitchface number seventy-seven; a unique one that one, only used for outdoor activities.

“Isn't Jack supposed to have an acute sense of direction?” He avoids asking Cas that question. He knows that Cas' grace is finite and he doesn't wanna poke at scabs.

“I think he's indulging Sam.” Cas smiles. “I still have an acute sense of direction too, you know.”

Dean moves a branch away that threatens to slap him in the face. “Oh. That's cool. Didn't wanna... you know with your grace and all.” He clears his throat.

“ _Dean_. I did that willingly. And I was, I _am_ fine with it, even when all my grace will be gone.” He grabs Dean's hand. “I'd do it all again.”

“That's great, Cas... It's just, I don't know, maybe if I managed to pull you out a few minutes quicker you would still–”

“–have been fine.” Cas squeezes Dean's hand. “Because I got out. Because I have you.”

A smile pulls at Dean's lips. “Yeah, can't really blame you, Cas. Who wouldn't be fine with me as a boyfriend?”

Cas rolls his eyes and speeds up to catch up to Eileen. He taps her on the shoulder and she turns.

“Hey, Cas. Is Dean still giving you grief over the backpacks?” She looks over his shoulder and waves at Dean.

“Yes,” Cas says. “You know how he is.”

“I can hear you!” Dean shouts back.

Eileen grins and soon she and Cas are engaged in silent talk; their hands flashing way faster than he can read but Dean's pretty sure he saw the sign for his name in there.

* * *

The two tents are up in no time.

The clearing has ample space for both tents which are connected with a tunnel that can be closed off by a simple pull of a zipper; it gives all of them some privacy if they so desire. A few steps away the campfire is already good to go. Jack has collected some rocks around the camp and placed them in a circle.

Dean has already pulled out the sleeping bags and placed all his snack sausages next to his pillow. Next, he pulls out his newest purchase. “I can't wait to try out this baby.”

Cas raises an eyebrow at what Dean is holding. “You brought a shovel with you? It's good if we come across something to salt-and-burn,” Cas starts.

“It's not a shovel.” Dean sounds offended. “It's a multi-tool, Cas,” and now the excitement is back in his voice. “I ordered it on Amazon a while back. Look.” He starts to disassemble the shovel.

Cas looks at all the tools Dean lays down on the tent floor. “What is all this?”

“Everything you'll ever need for camping.” Dean picks up the axe and spear. “See?”

“I see,” Cas says hesitantly.

“And look at this baby.” Dean puts down the weapons and picks up the whistle and ruler. “Great, isn't it?”

“It's a neat design.” Cas grabs the whistle and blows hesitantly. A shrill sound escapes from the whistle.

Dean nods. “I told you it's amazing. It also has a screwdriver and a hook, and a bunch of other stuff. And you wanna know what the best part is?”

“Please.”

“It only weighs two and a half pounds.”

Cas smooths out the end of his sleeping bag. “It seems perfect. Any rope in there, for you to tie into knots?”

Dean frowns and looks at Cas. “It has a rope cuter too, but no ropes. Why would I wanna tie knots?”

Cas shrugs. “I thought that's what any good Boy Scout did.”

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean says as he shoves at him but he's smiling. “You're just jealous because this beauty has a lifetime warranty.”

“I thought you liked being a _good boy._ ”

A flash of arousal goes through Dean. Cas even has the damn eyebrow raised. He is not falling for that. He turns slightly, grabs the shovel and starts reassembling the pieces. “You just _wish_ you had a shovel like this. And gimme that.” Dean takes the whistle from Cas.

When Dean and Cas exit the tent, Sam and Eileen are already sitting outside in their camping chairs.

Eileen leans over and says something to Sam. He nods, shakes his head and then turns and kisses her before continuing with his book.

Dean teases Sam about him turning all sappy now that Eileen is in his life, but he gets it.

He looks over at Cas who is sitting down on a blanket with Jack and shuffling a deck of cards next to Sam and Eileen. Jack looks concentrated so he figures Cas is teaching him another card game.

The sun is still out, although the worst of the heat has passed them, and the trees around them shade the worst of the sun's rays. Dean doesn't recognize this particular trail but it doesn't matter. Just the fact that he's here with his family, that he can take it easy and relax still amazes him. But it feels damn good.

He sits down next to Jack on the blanket and peers at the cards. “Cas, if you're not careful, he's gonna beat us at poker soon enough.”

“I already do half the time, Dean,” Jack says.

“That's not–”

Cas squints. “He's right.”

“Hush, not a word. Let me have that illusion at least.”

After exploring the neighboring trails, reading a book and sharing hunter stories with Eileen, Dean decides that enough is enough. He can't ignore his stomach any longer. Reaching down into his pocket, Dean brings out the whistle.

Sam startles at the sound. “Dean, what's going on?”

Cas, Eileen, and Jack all gather around him.

“I don't know about you, but it's time for food.”

Jack perks up at that. “Great. I've already gathered some wood.”

Dean glances at the campfire, where indeed a stack of branches are neatly piled up. “Great work, kiddo but we're not gonna barbecue our sausages. We're gonna fry them. On this!”

He pulls out his second toy.

Sam looks at the square shapes and the parallel lines. “It looks like a storm drain.”

“Well, it's not a storm drain. It's a rolling BBQ grill. It's won awards and shit.”

“Jack has already gathered wood.” Sam sounds like it'll be a personal affront to Jack if they don't use the fireplace.

“Calm your hair follicles, Sammy. We'll use the campfire too. Eileen, there are hot dog buns in my tent.”

Eileen returns with a package. “Here you go.”

Dean waits a few seconds and looks at Sam, biting his lip.

Finally, his brother notices Dean staring at him. “What's up?”

“Eileen is here, with the hot dog buns, Sam.”

Eileen looks from Dean to Sam, and her brows raise in confusion.

Sam shakes his head. “Nice try, but I'm not eating any hot dogs, I've brought some vegan ones with me.”

Dean tries not to make a face at that. “Not that, she's bringing the _buns._ ” When Sam continues to look dumbfounded Dean sighs with frustration. “For the love of Christ – ”

He places his hands on the hot dog buns and looks Eileen straight in the eyes. “Nice _buns_.”

Eileen bursts out laughing and Sam rolls his eyes. “Really Dean, what are we, thirteen?”

Dean laughs. “Nope, but you can't pass on a great joke like that.”

* * *

  
They gather around the campfire after finishing up the hot dogs.

Dean tosses Jack a pack of marshmallows. “Now, this is why we have a fire.”

“I've never done this before,” Jack says.

Dean inspects his skewer and pockets the knife when he deems the skewer to be finished. “I know and that changes tonight. We can't have a real camping experience without giant marshmallows. Now the trick is to be relaxed in the wrist.”

Eileen nods in agreement.“And twirl!”

Jack looks skeptical. “I like them as they are. I don't see how setting them on fire will make them better.”

“Cas, you have failed as a dad.”

Cas clicks his tongue. “I wasn't aware the art of marshmallow barbecuing was in any of the chapters on child-rearing.”

From the corner of his eye, Dean notices a ball of fire and quickly he grabs Jack's stick. He pushes off the marshmallow and stomps on it. Two seconds later, he realizes that it wasn't the best idea. Now he has gooey sugar stuck on the sole of his shoe.

“The marshmallow is supposed to have a nice golden color. Setting it on fire is a no-no. Luckily I bought a big bag.” Dean hands Jack another one.

Dean takes out his skewer from the fire and blows on the marshmallow. Perfect. He takes a bite and offers Cas the second piece.

“Thanks.” Cas takes the skewer. “It's good but not as sweet as your kisses.”

Dean just grins when he notices that Sam rolls his eyes.

Two bags of marshmallows later they're watching the fire as it slowly dying. “I never wanna hear the word marshmallow again,” Dean groans. “They hit you like a ton of bricks on the way down.”

“So you don't want my last piece?” Eileen offers.

“Nope, it's all yours. So about the Bunker. I was thinking we write an application. And hand it out to a selected few.”

Sam makes a face. “An application? 'Do you want to stay in an underground Bunker? Are you afraid of the Supernatural? No? Great, just fill in this form. Question number one. Have you ever been possessed by a demon?'”

Eileen smacks Sam's shoulder, then turns to Dean with a smile. “I think that's a great idea, Dean.”

“I was thinking we hand it out to one person, maybe two to see how the application is being received.”

Cas' who's leaning his back on Dean's chest looks up. “Do you have any particular place in mind?”

“Maybe the local college? They have people of all ages and those walls where they put up notices. Students looking for things like books, extra work, or a room?”

“You think people will want to live in the Bunker?” Jack wonders.

Dean takes a pull on the beer he opened earlier. “Why wouldn't they? We do.”

When Dean and Cas crawl down into the sleeping bags later that evening, Cas winds his arm around Dean and pulls him in close. The warmth of Cas' body is always welcome; just the fact that he can have Cas like this is still something that feels unreal at times.

“I've already written the application. I say we do this tomorrow.”

Cas kisses his neck softly. “Mm, sounds like a plan.”

“I'll start with the college, see if we get lucky there.”

Cas hums and kisses him down his back. “You do that.”

Dean sighs against Cas. “Feels so good, Cas. Are you listening?”

“I am,” Cas whispers. “College, tomorrow. Right now, I'm busy.” He strokes Dean's arm a few times before sighing against his back. “You're still beautiful, Dean.”

“You're kinda hot too, Cas.”

Cas mumbles something but Dean can already tell by Cas' slow breathing that he'll be asleep any second.

“Good night, Cas. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dean.”


End file.
